Through your Eyes
by chelsietea
Summary: "She doesn't know the reason for her nervousness: the doctors have reassured both her and Robin several times, the operation is new, yet a relatively simple one, there is nothing to worry about. Yet her palms are sweating, her insides twisting." Robin is blind from birth and Regina pays for his surgery so he has the chance to become able to see.


**Hey there! I was finally able to dedicate some time to writing, I'm so glad I did. This was written in response to a prompt by otpprompts on tumblr. Robin is blind from birth and Regina pays for his surgery so he has the chance to become able to see. **

**This is either good or bad, you tell me. Not betaread, all mistakes are mine.**

_Imagine that person B from your OTP is blind since they were born, and, after much discussion, person A gives them the present of eye surgery, so they have the chance to be able to see. After the surgery, B still needs a lot of treatment and rehabilitation, but as soon as they are able to see person A their first words to them are "I've never doubted, but you really are the most beautiful thing in this world…"_

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Regina walks back and forth in frustration, the noise of her ticking heels ricocheting off the white, polished and sterile walls of the hospital hallway. She can't stay still, all of her nerves are on edge, and she's sure that if one of the nurses asks her to sit once again she'll snap her neck.

She doesn't know the reason for her nervousness: the doctors have reassured both her and Robin several times, the operation is new, yet a relatively simple one, there is nothing to worry about.  
Yet her palms are sweating, her insides twisting.  
Her mind has been reeling since she put foot in the corridor of the surgical ward - what if the corneal transplant won't have a positive outcome? What if it will erase every possible chance for him to see? What if she will lose him?

He is the only person she has left in this world.

On the other hand, she can't help fighting back a smile at the thought of him seeing her in the flesh for the first time. She can't help suppressing a laugh at the thought of his bewildered expression, ponders how it would be to see light and colours for the first time in her life. She has no idea how he managed to live until now, without seeing where he was going, without staring at people in the face while talking to them.  
She has no idea how he managed to trust her, to love her unconditionally like he does, without even having looked upon her face for once.

Never would she have imagined things would go this far, to them living together, to her offering to pay for his surgery. He blatantly refused her help for many months, telling her it was not her task to look after him, that he could look after his own self, had learnt to from a young age - but she never gave up, and insisted until he relented.

The night before the surgery, after they made love, he cried. He cried for their lost opportunities and their second chances, he cried because, for the first time in all his life, he would be able to see not only with his heart and ears, but with his eyes as well. He cried silently, when he thought she had already fallen asleep.  
Regina simply held him tight against her, his head cushioned against her breast, her steady breathing lulling him gently to sleep.

Before entering the operating theatre the day after, he took her hand in his, staring, although not really seeing, at her from his bed, as the anaesthetic kicked in, clouding those deep blue eyes of his.  
"If this doesn't work, I won't hold you responsible for anything, do you hear me?" he had breathed out, slowly losing consciousness.

She had tried to calm him by murmuring soothing words and caressing his hair but he fought against sleep with all his might. "I cannot thank you enough for all you did for me, Regina. You brought light in my life, you taught me what it means to never lose hope."

She shushed him good-naturedly, although tears were threatening to fall. "I'm not sure I can live up to that description."  
"Or course. You are strong, resilient, sassy and beautiful. I could never wish for more."

She bit her lip to stop from smiling through the tears. "As if you've ever seen my face." 

He nodded tiredly in agreement, his head slightly lolling to the side, "Your face I have not seen yet, milady, but your heart, that I saw, and it's one of the most marvellous things I've ever seen in my life."

She laughed brokenly, frantically searching her purse for a tissue while wiping the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.  
Hearing her sniffling, he raised a hand to catch hers and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. 

"Being told this by a blind man, well milady, it's a real compliment," he whispered before succumbing to sleep, her hand still pressed against his lips.

"Miss Mills?" the nurse's voice comes from the end of the hallway, snapping her out of her thoughts.

She turns on her heels, staring back at the girl with an expression halfway between hope and worry.  
"Mr Locksley is awake. He asked for you."

They don't give her any information about the outcoming of his operation - and rightfully so, she's not a relative, nor his wife, just a woman he met four years before.  
Her memories play vividly before her as she walks the endless corridor; images of herself colliding with Robin on an insanely crowded train platform, her younger self angrily berating him for not looking where he was going, his unnervingly polite and apologetic replies, his dog barking so loudly she almost went deaf, until she noticed he was looking at her funny, or better, he wasn't really looking at her, in fact he probably couldn't even see her because he was clearly blind.  
It became her turn to apologise then, feeling deeply shamed by her own stupidity and lack of attention. He only smiled, petted the dog to calm his barking, and invited her for a coffee.  
Having lost her train by then, Regina accepted.

Once they were sitting in a coffee bar and his brown Labrador, John, was quietly sitting on the floor next to him, he calmly explained to her he was blind since birth, having severe corneal issues. He had learnt to cope with his handicap since childhood and he had become so good at it that, ironically, he didn't even seem a blind person - and he didn't like seeming one, so he didn't use a walking stick, and kept his guide dog on a simple lead.  
Since she had remained quiet for the whole length of his story, not wanting to bother him by asking personal questions, he quickly changed topic, asking why such a beautiful woman was so in a hurry to get aboard a train.  
When she sassily questioned how on earth was he supposed to know she was beautiful, he flashed her a charming smile, answering that he had a certain knack for those things. 

After their pleasant chitchat he boldly asked for her number and she gave it to him with very little hesitation, surprising her own self.

Usually she would not behave so familiarly with a stranger, but there was something about him that intrigued her, if it was his good looking appearance, his charming smile or his infuriatingly good sense of humor she couldn't tell.

Only after several months and dates did she learn that what had drawn her to him in the first place had been his blindness, that allowed him to see every part of her without prejudices, the good and the bad.

As they lay on his bed in a tangle of limbs, pleasantly spent by the first of many lovemaking sessions, Regina found herself staring at the dark ceiling of his room, wondering how could that man make her body and heart sing.

It wasn't just his attractiveness that enticed her, it was his ability to see beyond the façade she pulled up every day, it was the way he valued her not only for her body and pretty face, it was the dimpled smile that lightened his visage whenever he touched her skin, whenever he heard her voice, it was the easy laughter that bubbled up in her whenever he fooled around.

Robin reminded her of things she had long forgotten about. The simplicity of cuddling together on the sofa while John slept on the carpet, the intimacy of sharing a bed, his hot breath tickling her skin, the fragrant smell of breakfast and coffee in the mornings, the quiet delight in finding him waiting for her at home after a long day in the office.

She takes a deep breath before purposefully walking into his room, the clicking noise of her heels against the tiles bringing a smile to his face. He is sitting upright in bed, his back pillowed by the cushions, his eyes bandaged tightly.

She is at his side in three strides, taking his hand in hers. "How are you?"

He flashes her a lopsided grin, "Well, as you can see, nothing much changed."

Regina hits his arm before pointing out softly, "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Of course I do. I'm fine, Regina."

She can't help the shaky breath that leaves her mouth, he rubs her arm to comfort her. "Hey, hey, it's alright. Regina, I'm here."

He tugs at her hand until she is lying against him, her head on his chest, his nose in her hair. "I'm not going anywhere."

She caresses his face, her fingers pausing on his bandage, then travelling down his nose and lips.

Her response is a quiet, mere whisper tickling his skin, "I know."

When the doctor finally removes his bandages, after weeks of treatment, she is there to assist.

The hospital room is poorly lit, yet Robin's eyes squint at the light filtering in through the heavy curtains. He scrunches up his nose in discomfort, his eyes slowly adjusting to the brightness of the room.

His sharp intake of breath makes her heart beat faster in anticipation. She watches mesmerized as his face lights up in excitement and to Regina it's like assisting to his rebirth.

His incredulous laugh gives her butterflies in her stomach and brings tears to her eyes, she's giddy with joy.

He blinks several times, then turns to her, murmuring her name, not with a questioning tone but with a sort of certainty that she can only associate with him, the sort of security that only he makes her feel, like she's not supposed to be anywhere else, like she's home.

She nods, smiling at him through the tears, sitting on the edge of his bed. "It's me," her voice breaks.

He reaches out for her, his hands on her cheeks, wiping away the wetness from her skin, his pupils finally taking her in.

He inhales deeply, at a loss for words. His imagination has never given her justice, his sight will never give her justice.

"I've never doubted, milady," he whispers to her tenderly, "but you really are the most beautiful thing in this world."

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**Good? Bad? Let me know with a comment?**


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